Crossing Boundaries
by Xtremeroswellian
Summary: Faith is there for Bosco in his time of need. Post-Childhood Memories.


Title: Crossing Boundaries

Author: X_tremeroswellian

Email: X_tremeroswellian@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: Third Watch belongs to Edward Allen Bernero and John Wells. I have no affiliation with them, the cast, the crew, NBC or anyone else official. This is just for fun, please don't sue.

Rating: R for a bit of bad language

Spoilers: Up through and including "Childhood Memories." 

Summary: Faith is there for Bosco when he needs her.

Distribution: If you like it, take it. Just let me know where's it's going so I can visit. Otherwise, its permanent home is at my site, Only Time: www.geocities.com/angel_roswell/onlytime.html.

Category: Story, post-"Childhood Memories."

Subcategories: Faith/Bosco friendship

Author's Note: Though far from the first fanfic I've written, it is the first Third Watch fic I've ever attempted. I wanted to know what happened when Faith returned to the station and she and Bosco talked, and since I didn't figure we'd actually get to see that scene, and the scenes following it...well, hence I wrote this fic. 

Feedback: Oh, yes. Please?

* * *

Crossing Boundaries

"I'm gonna be late," Faith said into her cell phone as she sat in the squad car. 

"How late?" 

"I don't know." 

There was a pause. "So what's going on?" 

"We found the killer. It wasn't Bosco. I have to tell him what's going on." 

"You mean he crawled out of the woodwork after you cleared him." 

"He didn't even know what happened, Fred." 

"Right. And there's no one else who could fill him in?" 

"No," she answered tensely. "There isn't."

"Fine. Don't forget you have a doctor's appointment tomorrow morning." 

"Yeah. Thanks for reminding me. Meet you there?"

"No. I have to work. You're not the only one with a job, Faith." There was no mistaking the bitterness in his voice.

For a moment, she wasn't sure how to respond. "All right." 

"All right." The line went dead. 

Faith pulled the phone away from her ear and stared down at it. Then she pressed 'End.'

* * *

"Sully, have you seen Boz?" 

He glanced up from his locker. "Nah. Why? Was he here?"

"Yeah. He was supposed to wait for me to come back from taking Shaquana home." 

"How'd that turn out?" 

"The mother confessed." 

Sully sighed. "And now she's gonna go to jail for killing her daughter's rapist." 

An involuntary smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "I don't know. There may be justice in this system after all." 

He raised an eyebrow. "Should I ask?" 

"Nope." 

He shrugged and headed for the door. "If I see Boscarelli, I'll tell him you're lookin' for him." 

"Thanks, Sully." 

"Sure." 

Faith waited until he'd left, and then changed out of her uniform and into her street clothes. She pulled her long-sleeved dark green shirt over her head and slid into her black jeans. She quickly removed the barrettes that were holding up her hair, and ran a brush through the strawberry-blond locks. She shrugged into her brown jacket, grabbed her bag and swung it over her shoulder, and shut her locker again. Then she headed for the exit.

* * *

She found him sitting on the curb, staring at the road. "Hey," she said as she sat down next to him.

"Hey." 

"Sorry it took so long." 

"Don't worry about it." 

Faith looked over at him, perplexed by the quiet tone of his voice. "Alan Johnson was murdered last night." 

"Murdered?" he repeated in surprise. 

"Yeah." 

"So that's why Christopher wanted to see me. He thought I did it." 

"He did," she admitted. 

"So did everyone else, I bet." 

"Not everyone, Boz." 

There was a moment of silence. 

"So what happened?" 

"It was Shaquana's mom. Johnson showed up on her door, wanted to make a deal with her." Faith gazed at the reflection of the street light that was dancing on the pavement. "They found him shot in his car. One of the hookers saw the whole thing. Sully and David tracked her down. She told them everything." 

"So Shaquana's mom is under arrest?" 

She nodded. "She signed a confession." 

"Yeah. Great. So now she's gonna go to jail for killin' some scumbag rapist." 

"It won't get that far." 

"What makes you so sure?" 

"I forgot to mirandize her." 

Bosco looked over at her for the first time since she'd sat down next to him. She couldn't help noticed how pale he was, or the fact that his eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. "Oh, really?" 

They shared a smile and both looked away. 

"So how are you?" she asked softly, concerned.

"Fine." 

"It's just...you called in sick today and I was worried." 

There was a long paused. 

"I screwed up, Faith. I screwed up bad." 

"We both screwed up." 

He shook his head. "No. You...you knew. You're good. You're the good one. But me? I'm not. I'm..." his voice broke. 

She swallowed hard and laid her hand on his shoulder, suddenly feeling very un-nerved. "Bosco--" 

"Hey, Yokas. Boscarelli." 

Faith looked up, startled. She'd forgotten that they were still outside the precinct. She squinted, then nodded to one of their fellow officers. "Hey, Richards." She glanced at her partner, who looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and knew it was time to get them out of there. She climbed to her feet and held her hand out to him. 

Bosco stared up at her, confusion written all over his face.

"Come on. I'll take you home." She waited patiently. 

After a moment, he hesitantly reached out and gripped her hand, allowing her to help pull him to his feet. 

"Thanks," he muttered under his breath. 

Faith squeezed his hand once, then let go. "Sure." 

* * *

"I'd offer you something to eat, but I don't really have anything here." 

She glanced at him as he removed two mugs from the cabinet above the kitchen sink. "I'm not hungry, anyway." 

He poured coffee in both mugs and handed one to her. 

Faith accepted the glass, sipped the coffee and sat down on the sofa. She looked around his apartment. It was strange. They'd been partners for years and she could count on one hand the number of times she'd been in his apartment. She found that fact oddly disturbing, though she couldn't place why. 

"Fred's gonna get pissed." 

She watched as he stood by the window, staring outside at the city. "Nah. I called. Told him I'd be late." 

"You don't need to stay. I'll be all right." 

"I know." She didn't budge from her spot on the couch. He probably would be okay. She'd seen him upset, been witness to his mood swings time and again, but somehow...something was different. Something was off tonight. And despite the fact that she knew she should go home and just let him deal with things in his own way--because that's how he dealt with everying--she couldn't convince herself to stand up and leave him there alone. So she waited. 

Bosco turned around, moved across the darkened room and sat down next to her. He remained silent for a long time, his eyes fixed on his untouched cup of coffee on the table. "You should go. Get as far away from me as possible. Before I drag you down with me." 

"Bosco." 

"I mean it, Faith. Get out while you can." 

"I'm not going anywhere," she said firmly. 

He put his head in his hands. "I'm a fuck-up," he said, his voice muffled. "Everything I touch turns to shit. I can't do anything right." 

Faith quickly set down her cup of coffee, stunned at his words. "Bosco--" 

He didn't even seem to hear her. "I didn't protect her." 

She hesitated only a moment, knowing she was about to cross a boundary she hadn't ever dared to try and cross before. She reached over and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close as his body shuddered with sobs. He didn't fight her. "Let it out, Boz." 

"I didn't protect her. I shouldn't have let him in..." 

She frowned, confused. "Let who in?" 

"My father...I shouldn't have opened the window..." 

Her eyes widened as the pieces came together in her mind. "Oh, Bosco." 

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have opened the window. I should've protected her." 

"It's not your fault. You were just a kid. You were just a kid, Boz," she whispered as tears stung her own eyes. She cradled him in her lap, rocking him gently. 

"I don't want to be alone..." 

"You're not alone," she answered. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." She rubbed a hand over his brow in an attempt to soothe him. 

After a few minutes, his body relaxed and she listened to the quiet sound of his breathing. 

Faith leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere," she murmured again.

* * *

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